M07b - Rescued

Messenger Malcolm watched his charge, feeling as despondent as an ethereal being who is fully aware of the various planes of existence can be. Emily, his charge, did not get out much these days, and when she did it rarely improved her mood. Malcolm was out of ideas on how to make Emily’s life better.

He watched her now, sitting in her favorite recliner, as she stared at the mindless gameshow on the television. It was no wonder that she thought of her existence as miserable. She did nothing to make one day better or different from another. She seemed to be just biding her time until death took her.

Malcolm knew, but Emily did not, that Francis, who was Emily’s neighbor, had just passed away. Francis’ daughter, June, was in the apartment at that very moment trying to get things in order. An idea started to form in Malcolm’s mind.

‘You could use a pick-me-up,’ Malcolm whispered into Emily’s ear. ‘You should go get something at the Dairy Queen.’

When this entered Emily’s mind, she disregarded it at first. Messenger Malcolm continued, ‘Hot fudge with nuts sounds r-e-a-l-l-y g-o-o-d.’ He drew out the last two words for emphasis, which was quite a feat while whispering.

This idea struck a chord with Emily, and she decided a trip to the DQ would be just the thing. Putting action to thoughts, she got up, collected her bag from the kitchen, and headed out.

As she walked down the row of apartments, she noticed the activity near 13B. Several strangers were standing near the open door, and as she watched, June, the daughter of the woman who lived there, came out, dressed in all black and carrying a small dog. It hit her that the woman that had lived there, Francine, or something like that must be dead.

Emily was going to just walk past. It was none of her concern. Fate, or maybe a Messenger, intervened. Somehow, the little brown dog wiggled free from June’s grasp, resulting in much shouting and flailing about.

In the commotion, the dog made a beeline for Emily. Barking and jumping up on Emily’s leg, it seemed to be begging to be picked up. At first, Emily did not do so, but she gave in and lifted the dog up so it would stop what was becoming increasingly pitiful wailing barking.

“Good! You got him,” June said breathlessly to Emily as she caught up. “This little furball is on his way to the SPCA!”

The dog cowered into as small a bundle as possible in Emily’s arms, as June reached out to retrieve it. A slight unseen nudge from Messenger Malcolm caused her to miss grabbing the dog and she latched onto Emily’s forearm instead.

‘You need to protect this dog,’ Malcolm whispered to Emily. ‘He can help you.’

“Let go of me!” Emily said. “Where is Francine? What are you doing to her dog?”

June did let go of Emily’s arm but did not back away.

Crossing her own arms across her chest, June said, “Mom has died. I’m going to have to take BoBo to the SPCA today. I already have cats at home, and he wouldn’t fit in.”

She reached out again to take the dog, and this time Emily allowed it. As the dog left the protection of Emily’s arms, it had a sad, pleading look in its expressive, large brown eyes. Once she had BoBo firmly in her grasp, June turned and reentered the apartment.

Emily felt drained by the whole incident for some reason and also turned, heading back towards her own apartment, her plans for a hot fudge covered indulgence forgotten. Messenger Malcolm followed unseen but disappointed.

*. *. *

Back in her apartment, Emily was very anxious and distracted. She flitted from her recliner to the kitchen, unable to relax as Messenger Malcolm peppered her with whispers of the dog’s plight and how much she would enjoy having him around.

After a day of restlessness, she could stand it no longer. Getting her purse, she headed for the dog shelter. The attendant at the desk was aware of the new arrival and showed Emily to the cage where BoBo was housed. Emily’s heart broke when she gazed into the big brown eyes of the little dog cowering in the corner, burrowed into a ragged flannel blanket.

“He doesn’t look like he likes the place,” Emily observed.

The attendant replied, “They all take a few days to adjust. He will be fine.”

Her mind made up, Emily said to the attendant, “What do I need to do to take him home?” The attendant replied that there was a small fee and a few forms to fill out, then she could rescue the dog.

Then to BoBo Emily said, “Hang in there, buddy, Emily’s going to bust you out!” Bobo moved his tail almost imperceptibly, never blinking as he watched the humans making their noises.

Emily followed the attendant back to the office where she completed the process of becoming BoBo’s new human. In ten minutes, Emily was leaving the shelter, her new roommate in her arms.

No one passing by would have had any doubts about BoBo’s feelings on the matter. He was a bundle of excitement, squirming in Emily’s arms, licking her face, wiggling not only his stubby tail, but his entire body. She barely managed to get him to her car without dropping him.

*. *. *

BoBo did not make the trip back to Emily’s apartment easy. He was too excited and would not be still. Fortunately, it did not take more than twenty minutes to complete the drive. A few more minutes later, Emily plopped down into her chair, the now exhausted dog asleep on the blanket in her lap.

As she sat there realizing all the ramifications of her impulsive decision, Emily was struck with the knowledge that she was not at all prepared to care for a dog. Thank God he was not a puppy! She had no leash, no food, no nothing that the dog would need.

After a few minutes' consideration, she decided on a trip to the pet store. Settling BoBo on his blanket in her recliner, she grabbed her purse again.

When BoBo moved to get up to follow her, Emily pointed at him and said, “You stay here. I’ll be back in a bit with your new kit.”

The dog seemed to understand, putting his chin between his paws and staring up at the human.

“And don’t get used to that chair. It’s mine, but you can guard it while I’m out.”

It took a little over an hour and a half to make the trip to and from the store along with deciding on what to buy. When she opened the apartment door, no experienced dog owner would be surprised by what she found, but Emily was. There on the floor just inside the door was a small smelly puddle and a gooey, even more smelly pile. It was a bit of luck that the door had not hit the soft pile causing a smear.

Emily was aghast! She had never had a dog before and just assumed that they would do this sort of thing in the bushes outside. She had not realized that maybe the dog had not had any time to do so since leaving the SPCA, in addition to having to await her return from shopping.

“This isn’t going to work if you keep this sort of thing up boy-o,” she said to the brown ball slinking around the corner.

Depositing her purchases in the kitchen, she cleaned up the mess. Then she retrieved the new leash that she had just acquired, clipping it onto the dog’s collar and headed out the door to see if the dog had any more to say on that matter. Bobo was happy to investigate the new yard and deposit a drop or two of urine here and there.

*. *. *

Things were much smoother after a few days, as the two grew more accustomed to how things would work.

About a week later, Emily was sitting in her recliner rather morose. It was her forty-sixth birthday, and no one had called or seemed to care. Everything was just too much all of a sudden. The tears flowed unchecked down her cheeks as she stared blankly at the television screen, not even aware of what was displayed there.

She did not notice at first when the dog walked quietly over to her chair and lay down beside it, curled into a ball. The two spent the next ten minutes, each contemplating their own thoughts.

Finally, Emily noticed the dog and lifted him into her lap. She stroked the dogs head as she continued to sit quietly.

“At least you care,” she eventually told the little dog.

“Let’s go for a walk and clear up this mood,” she said.

Fitting action to words, she rose and retrieving the leash from a hook in the kitchen, the two of them headed out. The weather was nice, and they both seemed to enjoy the exercise.

When they returned, she was pouring some kibble in a bowl for the dog and paused. The kibble was cheap, but was it good for the dog? Was it good to the dog? She had not really thought of these things when she grabbed a bag that first day. Now she was getting used to the dog being around. She might even be becoming happy that the dog was around. She resolved to see what other options were available the next day.

It turned out that the clerk at the store had very good things to say about a locally made food and she picked up some. It needed to be refrigerated, since it was made from fresh ingredients. The dog was enthusiastic when it was presented to him!

“You know what?” Emily said after the dog had eaten every bite. “You don’t really look like a BoBo to me. The way that you are always walking about sniffing in corners and looking under things makes me think that you are a hunter. What do you think about that for a name, Hunter?”

The dog’s ears perked up and he tilted his head. “Hunter it is then.”

*. *. *

Meanwhile, in another apartment not too far away someone else was lounging in an easy chair talking. Samuel MacTavish, known simply as Sam to those that knew him, was sipping a glass of Laphroaig Scotch Whiskey as he talked with his friend, Messenger Doohan McDonald. Doohan had made himself fully solid for the occasion as he generally did for their nightly chats.

Doohan, who had bemoaned his inability to taste the beverage of his homeland for years now, was explaining a new discovery with some excitement.

“I be telling you Sammy, me lad, that I can be smelling the elixir!” Doohan said.

“But you’ve always said that you could never smell or taste anything before,” Sam responded. “What do you think has changed?”

“I know not!” Doohan continued. “All I be knowing is afore I could not and now I can!”

“Well maybe that means that your ability to taste will be back too,” Sam offered.

“We can only hope, me laddie!” Doohan agreed. He continued with, “Speakin’ of things that be changed, did ya spot that lassie you were sweet on sashaying about with the wee doggie?”

“What?” Sam said. “No, I haven’t seen anything like that. Whatever do you mean?”

“Emily. The lass has gone and got herself a little furry friend,” Doohan added.

“Well, how about that!” Sam exclaimed. “I would not have expected that.”

The next day, Sam was sitting on the bench that he frequented in front of the apartments, reading the daily news, when Emily walked by with Hunter.

“Well hello, Emily,” Sam said. “Who is this happy guy?”

Ever the friend to all, Hunter went up to Sam wiggling his tail so fast it appeared ready to lift him up. He stood up on his rear legs and greeted the man who his human seemed to know with his front paws.

“His name is Hunter,” she replied. “He was Francis’ dog down in 13B before she passed, so I took him in.”

“He certainly seems to be having a good day,” Sam observed.

“Yes, he’s a pretty happy fellow,” Emily said. “I don’t think that he has ever met someone that he didn’t like.”

Tugging the leash gently, she indicated to Hunter that it was time to move on. Sam reflected as the woman and dog walked away that Doohan had been right about her improved mood. He resolved to consider the situation somewhat more.

*. *. *

It was a few days before Sam saw Emily and Hunter again coming down the sidewalk toward his bench. This time, he bent forward and clapped his hands as he said, “Come here boy!”

Hunter had enough slack in his leash to allow him to jump up into Sam’s lap, where he greeted the friendly human enthusiastically. Emily paused to give Hunter a moment and even had a small smile as she waited.

“You and Hunter do seem to be getting along famously!” Sam said, laughing through the dog’s licking of his chin.

“He is a hard fellow to hold down,” Emily agreed.

“Maybe the two of you should join me for a bite to eat down on the boardwalk,” Sam suggested.

“Not today,” Emily replied. “We already have plans.”

When Emily gave the leash a little pull, Sam took the hint and gave Hunter a big quick rub down and then lifted him and sat him back on the sidewalk. The two strolled on their way again.

When Sam related the meeting to Doohan later that night as he had his nightcap, he tried to make lite of how he felt about it.

“She said that she had plans already when I broached getting together later, but you know how that goes,” Sam told the Messenger. “That’s the way they let you off without a firm rejection.”

"Aye, me laddie,” Doohan said. “That be the way of it. Don’t ye be getting all hooky about it, though. It may just be that the lass was but telling the truth of it.”

“That may be,” Sam agreed, but not very convincingly.

*. *. *

Sitting in her recliner that night with Hunter in his customary spot on her lap, Emily talked things over with the dog.

“That Sam is starting to sniff around us again,” she opened the conversation. Hunter just gazed at his human with those big soulful eyes and waited for her to go on, as she usually did.

“He always seems like he’s not quite straight with us. I don’t think that we will be hanging about with him,” she continued.

“You, on the other hand, are the best thing to happen to me,” Emily concluded. “I’m pretty sure that it wasn’t me that rescued you, but you who rescued me!”

*****

Author’s Note: Both of my avid fans, and maybe some others, will have noticed that this story is a continuation of my story M07 So Grateful, or Not. I was not satisfied with how that tale ended, so I decided to pass along later events. You may also have spotted that this is the second story which mentions a Yorkie. RIP my furry friend. I miss you and cannot help writing you in occasionally.